


Rush Hour

by RemyRemedial



Series: The 'Stag Do' Universe [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Non-Sexual Age Play, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemyRemedial/pseuds/RemyRemedial
Summary: Sherlock's just wrapping up a case when he notices that John is starting to 'slip'. It's been a long day for the two of them. If he can just get him handed over to Greg, then everything will be alright.





	1. Chapter One

“John.” Sherlock looked over the back of the sofa, “John, stop that!”

“No!”

“John.” Sherlock attempted even more calmly, “Just come and sit down please.”

“No!”

“John, come and sit down or I’m calling Pa.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” John chanted as he stomped across the floor.

“John, please.”

“Play!”

“I will, in a little bit, I’ll play in a little bit but just for now-!”

“Nooooo!” John jumped up and down a couple of times before running into the middle of the room, “Pease, pease play?” he stood in front of Sherlock and tapped on his knee earnestly. Sherlock sighed and took his poking hand in his own, 

“John, I’ve got some work to do. Shall I call Pa or Da?”

“No.” John pouted and shook his head, “Jus wanna play wif you.”

“I know.” Sherlock sighed and spread his knees, so he could pull John closer, the little one leant his head on Sherlock’s shoulder. “I know you want to play with me, but big brothers got work to do. Do you think you can be calm for a little bit?” Sherlock felt John go rigid under his touch and he suddenly stood up straight, looking at Sherlock crossly. 

“I am calm!” He stomped his foot.

“Hey, hey-“ Sherlock reached out for him but John stormed off, stomping around the flat chanting “calm” very loudly. That was it, Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled Greg.

“Sherlock?”

“Da,”

“Lock?” Sherlock heard Greg instantly perk up at the name.

“It’s John-“

“Is he alright?!”

“He’s fine, it’s just,” Sherlock took the phone from his ear and held it up to the room, so Greg could hear the racket John was making. He put the phone back to his ear.

“I see, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“What do I do until then?”

“Get him some water and sit with him.”

“I can’t get him to sit down.”

“You’re a smart lad I’m sure you’ll work it out. I’ll be there soon.” With that Greg hung up and Sherlock put the phone back in his pocket.

Ten minutes later Greg climbed the stairs up to 221b, he was listening out for the tell-tale signs of a full-blown John-John meltdown. Well, the building was still standing so that was something. He opened the door and was immediately leapt upon by a sandy haired monster.

“Da!”

“John.” Greg wrapped his arms around the wriggly boy and squeezed him tight. “Have been good for your big brother?”

“Yeh!” John shouted right in Greg’s ear making him wince, he turned to the side, so he could get a look at Sherlock. He was sat in his usual chair, head in his hands. 

“Mm.” Greg started, giving John a light swat, “Legs down lad.” John dropped his feet to the floor and was quickly turned around and wrapped up in Greg’s arms again, this time with his back against his Da’s chest, arms tucked at his sides. Greg rested his chin on the top of John’s head and looked at Sherlock sympathetically. “How’s it going?”

“Okay I think.” Sherlock sighed and ruffled his hair before looking up at Greg. “I’m almost there, just need some peace and quiet.”

“Right.” Greg smiled and winked at Sherlock, “I’ll take this one home with me, once you’re done, come round for dinner and an early night, eh?”

“The cottage?”

“No, I’ll take him back to the townhouse for now, until you’ve finished up. We’ll go in the morning, how does that sound?”

Greg saw Sherlock melt a little at the affection, he was just about holding off slipping himself, knowing he had the last strands of this case to pull together. “That would be nice,” Greg nodded and was about to turn all of his attention onto John when he heard Sherlock finish his thought with a, “Da.” Greg’s head shot up and he beamed at Sherlock.

“We’ll see you later.” Another wink for the elder of his two adopted sons before he looked down at John. John tilted his head back to look up at him, “Right then little monster, where’s your coat and shoes?”

“Dunno.” John shrugged.

“On the hook behind the door.” Sherlock called without looking up from the stacks of files in front of him.

“Thanks love.” Greg pulled back the door to reveal John’s waterproof coat (well, young John’s coat to be specific) and his trainers. “Pop your bum on the floor, let’s get your shoes on.”

“Don need em, Da.”

“Yes, you do, sit down please.”

“No, no, no!” John stamped a foot with each word. Greg sighed and glanced over at Sherlock who was peering up from his work, they shared a knowing look that told Greg John had been on repeat for a while. He gave Sherlock a small smile and turned his attention back to the little one. He turned him around to face him and took a firm hold on each arm. “Right, lad, that’s quite enough. You are going to sit your bum down and let me put your shoes and coat on, then we’re going to take a walk back to the house. If you’re a very good boy, you and me can play football in the garden before dinner.” 

“Buh I don need shooooes!” John shook his head. Greg sighed, he had only just finished work when Sherlock called, he hadn’t expected to be in ‘dad mode’ tonight and although he loved every second of it, he hadn’t had the time he usually needed to ‘psych’ himself up. He took a deep breath and pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at John with his best ‘Dad’ face.

“Yes, you do need shoes, and if you keep this up you’ll also need a smacked bum. Now, sit down.” At that John instantly dropped to the floor, crossing his arms across his chest. “Thank you.” Greg sat down in front of him and started work putting on John’s shoes, once the first one was on he took a hold of John’s chin and peered under his messy hair to look at him. “First one done, deep breath, you’re doing so well.” He smiled at John and lay his palm on John’s chest, “In,” John did as he was told, “And out.” Greg beamed at John, “That’s my boy.” He swept John’s hair back off his face and started on the second shoe. Once the second shoe was on he kissed John noisily on the forehead. “Well done! Now your coat-“

“Nooooo!” John was up on his feet in a flash.

“John.” Sherlock spoke clearly but quietly, clearly John had heard him though because he span around to look at him. “Shall I tell you a secret?” Sherlock looked up from his work and locked eyes with the little monster. John’s mouth fell open,

“A-huh.” He nodded.

“Well, come here.” Sherlock beckoned him over with a finger and John dashed across the room to him. Sherlock put his hands on John’s waist and pulled him close. “Did you know that my coat has special, magical powers?”

John’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head.

“Mm, well it does. That’s why I wear it on cases, isn’t that right Da?” Sherlock glanced over at Greg who was trying to hide the smile on his face as he stood upright, crossing his arms over his chest. He nodded,

“That’s right.”

“It keeps me safe from the baddies and makes me very strong. That’s why it’s a special coat.”

“Speshal.” John nodded in understanding.

“That’s right. Now it’s not just my coat that has special powers, it’s my scarf too, of course.”

“Cors.” John nodded again.

“Now, I need my coat here while I finish this case. But my scarf-“

John’s hand shot up in the air, “Can I wear tha magic scarf? Pease? Peasssse?” John hopped up and down. Sherlock smirked and put a hand on each of John’s shoulders, steadying him.

“Yes, you can, if you wear your coat as well.”

“Kay!” John tried to take off in the direction of his coat, but Sherlock held him still.

“Wait, let Da get your coat and scarf.” Sherlock held onto John while Greg gathered the coat and scarf and joined them. Sherlock kept John’s attention while Greg manoeuvred his limbs into the coat, “Now, if you’re going to wear the scarf you have to be a very good boy all the way home.”

“Will!” John nodded.

“Hold Da’s hand the whole way.”

“Kay.” John nodded again. 

Sherlock held out his little finger, “Pinkie promise?”

“Pinkie pomise.” John nodded as he locked fingers with his big brother.

“Right then.” Sherlock stood up, ready to usher the little guy out of the flat but first, Greg handed him his scarf.

“I’ll let you do the honours.” He winked at Sherlock as he watched him wrap the scarf around John’s neck exactly as he usually wore it. 

“There we go.” He smiled down at John who grinned back up at him. “Best behaviour all the way home, John-John, pinkie promise, remember?”

“Member.” John nodded.

“And Da is going to call me when you get there, and if you haven’t been a very good boy, you’ll get a smacked bottom from me when I get home, do you hear me?”

Sherlock heard John gasp. Sherlock had never spanked John before when he had been the much bigger brother. Or ever, at any time, for that matter. There was never any need to, Greg and Mycroft were strict enough disciplinarians. But there was something about John at this age that reminded Sherlock of himself when he had physically been the same age. Something a bit wild and manic and frankly magical, but a complete handful. When their mental age gap was the same as it currently was, he couldn’t help but be drawn to the similarities between himself and Mycroft. He desperately wanted to be as a good a big brother to John as Mycroft had been to him, and frankly that couldn’t be the case without the odd threat of a hiding. Of course, he would never need to dish it out, there was Mycroft and Greg. But in that moment, he quite liked the idea of being a firm but fair big brother. It was with that thought that he arched an eyebrow in his best Mycroft Holmes impression, and he saw John’s eyes go wide as he reached back to cover his bum.

“I be good.” John nodded.

“Good boy.” Sherlock kissed John on the cheek and ruffled his hair, before turning him around and sending him over to Greg with a light swat.

John skipped over and took Greg’s hand, turning back to look at Sherlock and show him how good he was being. Sherlock smirked as he threw his dressing gown back behind him and sat down again. “Love you little brother,” John squeaked and hopped towards the door, “Love you too, Da.”

“Love you Lock.” Greg called as he was pulled down the stairs by John and his magic scarf.

Once they were out on the street Greg pulled out his phone. “I think we’d better call your Pa and let him know we’re on our way home.”

“Pa at work?” John asked as they walked along, John swinging their hands as they went and Greg not giving a flying fuck what anyone thought about it. 

“I’m not sure, John. Shall we see?”

“Yeh!” John smiled, and Greg dialled his husband and held the phone up to his ear.

“Hello love. No, everything’s fine, I’m just here with John-John-“

“Ello Pa!” John called. Greg smirked and turned to look at John,

“Pa says hello, dear.”

“Mm.” John nodded.

“We’re on our way home- No, Sherlock’s still got a little bit of work to finish but he’ll come over when he’s done.”

“Pa home?” John asked.

“That’s a good question, John. Love, are you home? …. Oh, brilliant.” Greg looked over at John, “Pa’s on his way home as we speak.” John grinned. “Yes, we’ll-“

There was a sudden screech of tires and a black sedan car pulled up alongside them.

“Oh, for fuck sake.” Greg hung up the phone and put it in his pocket just at the door of the car swung open to reveal a smirking Mycroft Holmes.

“Pa!” John let go of Greg’s hand (he’d let that one slide) and raced into the car, almost crushing Mycroft as he leapt onto him.

“Owf.” Mycroft slid over and pulled John in alongside him, making room for Greg on John’s other side. Mycroft wrapped an arm around John’s shoulder as he instantly snuggled up into him. 

“Da said a bah word, Pa!” John added as Greg pulled the door shut.

“Thank-you, cheeky.” Greg added with a swat to the side of John’s bum that was available as he hugged Mycroft. “I was surprised, is all.”

“Surprised, Gregory? Do I still surprise you after all these years?”

“You know bloody well you do!” Greg stretched out his legs with a sigh. Sometimes being married to Mycroft Holmes had its perks. Like when you’re trying to wrangle a hyper little monkey (who is also a still muscular army vet) down a London street at 5.30 on a Friday with nothing but the promise of a magical scarf keeping his hand in yours. 

“Language, Gregory!” Mycroft leant over John to smack Greg on the thigh. “Not in front of the baby.”

“I’m noh a baby!” John piped up.

“Oh, yes you are!” Mycroft kissed John and squeezed his cheeks, “You’re my baby. Have you been a good boy?”

The car was silent for a moment. “John?” Mycroft asked, peering down his nose at him.

“John’s been a bit over excited, haven’t you buddy?”

“Mmhm.” John nodded, picking at the sleeve of Mycroft’s coat.

“I see, have you been a bit of a handful for your big brother?”

“Yes, he has.” Greg answered for a suddenly very quiet John. “But Lock let you wear his magic scarf, didn’t he?”

“Yeh!” John suddenly looked up at Mycroft, “Look, Pa!” John stuck out his chest, so Mycroft could be sure to see the scarf.

“Oh wow, well isn’t that special. We’ll make sure to take extra special care of it, wont we John? We’ll hang it up on Sherlock’s hook in the downstairs cupboard as soon as we get home.”

“Good ideyah.” John nodded.

“Yes, I think so.” Mycroft nodded too.

“Pa?”

“Hmm?” Mycroft looked back down at John and John half whispered,

“Lock sed if I wasn’t a very, very, good boy on tha way home, he’d smack my bum!” John looked up at Mycroft, whose eyebrows shot up as he glanced over at Greg, who was giving him a knowing smirk. He took that in for a second, suddenly very proud of his brother.

“Well, quite right too. Have you been a very, very, good boy?” Mycroft arched an eyebrow and John let out a little gasp at the similarity between the two Holmes’ men, before looking over at his Da for confirmation of whether he had, indeed, been a good boy.

“Yes, John, you have been a very good boy.” John spun back to look at Mycroft with a proud grin before suddenly remembering something, he turned back to Greg, pulling on his sleeve,

“Football, Da? Pease?”

“Well, I think it’s getting a bit dark out, John.”

“Buh you sed! John pouted.

“I know I did, but it’s taken a bit longer than I thought it would to get home-“

“You sed!” John pushed himself away from Mycroft and used both of his hands to try and push each dad away from him. Completely furious at what he saw as a broken promise.

“But how about we watch a bit of football on the telly, before dinner?”

“No!” John reached across Greg’s legs, trying to get a hold of the door handle.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Mycroft wrapped his arms around John, pulling him sideways onto his lap and Greg quickly took a hold of his feet to stop him kicking. Mycroft could feel John almost vibrating even between the layers of coats and jumpers. “It’s alright my love.” He adjusted John, so his head was resting against his Pa’s chest and Mycroft used one arm to hold him still and his free hand to rub circles on his back. At the same time Greg rubbed his legs. “Deep breaths now, John, darling.” He couldn’t tell if he was trying to take deep breaths or not, it was difficult to tell between the tears that were falling from his eyes and the vibrations from his body. “Oh poppet, has it all been a bit much today?” He stroked John’s hair off his face and kept rubbing his back.

Greg had an idea, he pushed the legs of John’s trousers up and pulled his striped socks up, so they were more visible, “John, how many stripes do you think there are on your socks?”

“Dunno.” John just about managed to mumble.

“Shall we count? Here,” Greg pointed to the first stripe, “One, can you count with me love?”

“Wun.” John parroted.

“Two.”

“T-t-two.”

“Three.”

“Free.” John’s breaths were calming down and Mycroft kept rubbing his back.

“Such a clever boy.” Mycroft added softly.

“And four.”

“Fore.” Greg reached over and stroked John’s tear-soaked face.

“Well done, junior.” 

“Mmhm.” John nodded and curled into Mycroft’s chest.

“I don’t know about you, Da,” Mycroft looked over at Greg, “But I’m quite tired after such a long day.”

“Oh yeah, I’m shattered.”

“I think I’d like to have a lie down when we get home, what do you think?”

“I think that sounds like a lovely idea, John, would you like to lie down and have a cuddle with me and Pa?”

“Mmhm.” John nodded, his eyes already half closed.

“Yes, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?” At that, they felt the car slow and Greg peered out of the window to see that they were now parked outside of the townhouse. 

“Right,” Greg opened the door and climbed out holding his arms in John’s direction. “Come on monkey,” John untangled himself from Mycroft and crawled across the car seat until Greg picked him up, settling him on his hip. Mycroft slid out of the car after him and opened the front door. Greg hurried inside, not worried about what people would think of the sight of him carrying his man/child on his hip, but worried about the effect the noise of the street would have on John.


	2. Chapter Two

Mycroft shut the front door behind them all and with it shut out the rest of the world. 

“Right, nap time for you little one.” Greg said to John, who was still in his arms.

“Lock?” John asked in a small voice.

“No darling, Lock isn’t home yet.” Mycroft called as he opened the cupboard under the stairs and started to take off his coat.

“Hop down for a moment buddy.” Greg released John legs and the little guy stood on his own, leaning heavily against Greg. “Have you eaten today, John?”

John didn’t answer he was too busy playing with the watch on Greg’s wrist. There was this little spinny thing on the side and if you turned it the sticks in the middle went round and round and round, it was brilliant!

“John?” Greg asked again.

“Hm?” John looked up from the awesome watch and Greg smiled back,

“Have you eaten today?” John shook his head and went back to playing with the watch, this time leaning in to bite it, it looked so pretty he was almost certain that it would taste nice. Greg stifled a laugh making Mycroft look over from the cupboard, with a sigh he called,

“John, dear, don’t eat Da’s watch.”

John looked over at Mycroft, wide-eyed, “Why?”

“Because,” Mycroft started as he strode over to the two of them, running a hand through his hair and looking thoroughly dashing, thought Greg, “How would Da know when it’s play time if he hasn’t got his watch?” Mycroft took John’s chin in his hand and looked down at him, “Hm?” 

That was a very good point in John’s opinion, so he rubbed the watch face with his cheek as a silent apology before tapping it lightly with his palm, “Sorry Da’s watch.” He said before smiling up at Mycroft.

“That’s my good boy.” Mycroft tickled behind John’s ear making him squirm away from his two Dad’s, giggling. “Sit on the stairs please dear, and we’ll get your shoes off.” John hopped once and nodded before sitting down at the bottom of the stairs. Greg walked over and crouched down in front of him and Mycroft leant on the banister, “What’s this I hear about you not having eaten?” Mycroft delivered the question to John before turning to look at his husband.

“I think we need a change of plans.” Greg said as he started to remove John’s shoes, apparently it was far less troubling to John to have his shoes removed, than put on. “Let’s get this little monkey something to eat, “Greg leant over and ruffled John’s hair, “Then it’s bath and bed.”

“Ohhh.” John whined.

“Oh yes lad, you’ve had a long day,” Greg winked at John before taking off his other shoe, “Right, now coat.” Greg helped John out of his coat, handing it to Mycroft who put it on John’s hook in the still open cupboard under the stairs. “Now, scarf-“

“No!” John quickly crossed his arms across his chest, protecting the scarf. This came as no surprise to anyone (except John, who seemed mildly caught off guard by his own actions). 

“Come on, dear, we agreed that we would keep the scarf on Sherlock’s hook, so it’s safe.” Mycroft gently reminded him and John thought about it, it really did sound like a good idea to keep the magic scarf safe, but it smelled like his big brother and he liked having it around his neck. 

“Buh, Lock.” John mumbled and stroked the scarf to try and explain. Greg looked up at Mycroft and saw his husband smile down gently at John,

“Ah, I see. Well, once you’ve had some dinner and a nice warm bath, it’ll be time for pyjamas, how about you pick one of Lock’s t-shirts to wear tonight? Any one you want.”

“Lock jammies?” John asked hopefully.

“Yes, you can wear some of Lock’s pyjamas, you’ll be just like your big brother.” Mycroft leant over the banister and stoked John’s hair back off his face.

“Kay.” John nodded, unfolding his arms actually very relieved that he didn’t need to be in charge of the special scarf much longer, it was too much responsibility.

“Good lad.” Greg smiled as he gently removed the scarf from around John’s neck and handed it to Mycroft with the reverence that it deserved. John turned head to see the special scarf being safely closed inside the cupboard and Greg felt him sigh. “Now then, I think it’s time for peanut butter on toast.” Greg smiled at John who grinned back,

“Pease?”

“Oh, so polite!” Mycroft called as he walked off in the direction of the kitchen. John threw his arms up at Greg who sighed as he smiled down at him.

“Yes, alright love. Come on.” Greg hoisted John up onto his hip and carried him through to the kitchen where Mycroft was already preparing John’s snack. Greg sat John on a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen, he opened one of the kitchen drawers and took out a Tupperware box. In the box were five different coloured balls, a bit smaller than tennis balls. Each one could be squashed or squeezed but with differing levels of resistance. He placed the box in front of John. “There you go, monkey.” With that he pulled up a stool next to John and sat down. John was already immersed in playing with his toys so Greg looked up at Mycroft. “Now, how was your day, love?”

“It was…fine. Much better now.” He smiled as he watched John before turning to collect the toast as it popped up. “How was yours darling?”

“The same. Better now.” He winked at Mycroft who was spreading peanut butter on the toast, as John found his favourite of the balls, a very squidgy blue one and held it out for Mycroft to see,

“Pa!?”

“Oh, wow, look at that!” Mycroft still wasn’t entirely sure what the correct response was to, ‘Pa!’ followed by the displaying of a toy. Greg chuckled, wrapping an arm around John.

“Is that the best one, eh?”

“Yeh!” John nodded.

“Is that right?”

“A-huh!”

“Well, can Da play with it while you eat your toast?” John thought about it for a minute before nodding and handing it over, 

“Kay Da.”

Mycroft placed a plastic plate of toast and peanut butter soldiers in front of John, “I do it!” John declared before he started enthusiastically feeding himself.

“Good boy.” Mycroft patted John on the back and walked back around the island, pulling a cold beer from the fridge and handing it over to Greg.

“You angel.”

“I know.” Mycroft fluttered his eyelashes and Greg winked.

“He’s not wrong you know,” Greg kept squeezing the ball, “This isn’t half bad-“

“Issa best one.” John nodded seriously, and Mycroft laughed.

“So, I told Lock we’d try and get to the cottage tomorrow.” Greg looked over at Mycroft who was pouring himself a glass of wine.

“That sounds lovely. I’ll help you load them into the car in the morning, make sure you have everything, then I need to pop into the office, but I’ll be there by tea time.”

“Perfect.”

“Not how I’d describe a morning commute with our two in the back.” Mycroft teased.

“Oh, it’ll be fun, wont it John-John?”

“Yeh!” John answered without a clue what question he was answering, but knowing that his Da was almost always, definitely right.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Mycroft mumbled leaning over the counter to pick at John’s hair, “How have you got peanut butter in your hair, young man?”

“Dunno.” John giggled.

“Mucky pup.” Greg grumbled, putting down his now empty bottle and standing up. He rested a hand on John’s stomach, “Feeling a bit better, all full up?”

“Flup!” John nodded.

“Right then, time for a bath, mister.”

“First, give me those messy clothes and I’ll put them in the wash.” Mycroft called opening the washing machine door and wiping the red from his lips. 

“Oh, good idea. Arms up,” Greg looked down at John who made a little barking sound as he lifted his arms, Greg pulled his t-shirt over his head looking over at Mycroft for an answer as to why.

“You called him a mucky pup.” Mycroft smiled, and Greg laughed,

“Oh, that I did. Right, down you hop.” Greg helped John off the stool before taking off his trousers, pants and socks and handing them over to Mycroft. “Bathroom little puppy, before you get cold.” Greg turned John around by his shoulders and sent him on his way with a playful swat to his bare bum, John giggled and trotted off with Greg close behind.

“I’ll be up to help you tuck him in.” Mycroft called after them.

“Love you!” Greg called back.

When Greg caught up with John he was already in the bathroom, enthusiastically playing with the bath taps. Turning them both on, then off, then one on, one off, both half on, half off. You get the idea. So did Greg only he could see the steam billowing off of the hot water as it rushed out of the tap. “John!” He pulled the little one away from the bath and quickly turned off both taps, he turned back to face John. “John, you do not play with the taps, you know that!” Greg could feel his heart hammering in his chest, but John looked all together unfazed.

“Buh is fun!” John answered, seeing Greg’s eyes suddenly darken.

“I’ll show you fun, lad.” Greg leant over him and smack him twice, hard, on his backside. Straightening up Greg pointed a finger, “Now, was that fun?”

“No!” John furiously shook his head, rubbing his bum. 

“No, I bet that hurt.” John nodded even more furiously. “Well you could have been much more hurt playing with the taps, you know better. Never again, John Hamish.” Greg raised an eyebrow and John nodded. “Right, now sit your bum down on the bath mat while I run your bath.” John nodded again and sat down, “Good boy.” John nodded and smiled, and Greg went back to the task at hand. Luckily, he noticed John playing with his shoelaces, and decided to slip his shoes off there and then rather than forget and fall ass over tit down the stairs later. Once the shoes were off his Da’s feet John could play with them properly and Greg could hear him making ‘car noises’ as he raced the shoes up and down the bath mat.

Greg triple checked the bath temperature before looking down at John, “All ready, in you pop.” Greg helped the little guy into the water and noticed him wince a little bit as the water touched his bum, even a couple of swats from a scared Greg could bring out a sting. “No playing with taps, John Hamish.” He grumbled, wagging a disapproving finger at John.

“Yes Da.” John mumbled.

Greg went to work, gently washing John’s hair and removing any remaining food from his body. He made a mental note to look for toys for John that involved shiny things that you could turn. Once he was done he stood up. “All squeaky clean.” John threw his head back to look at him and grinned,

“A-huh.”

“Time for some jim jams.” Greg helped John out of the bath and started drying him off with a soft towel.

“Lock jammies?” John asked, tilting his head.

“Yes, love, don’t worry, your old Da hasn’t forgotten.” Greg kissed John on the forehead before wrapping the towel around him. “Come on, let’s go.” John skipped off in the direction of his and Sherlock’s ‘little’ room and Greg found him rummaging through the drawers.

“Dese ones!” John declared, holding up a pair of red, Flash pyjamas.

“Oh, good choice love. Right, lie down on your bed and let Da get you ready.”

John nodded and climbed up on the bed as Greg picked up the pyjamas John had chosen, along with a pull-up and started getting him ready for bed. Once he was dressed, Greg helped him up, just as Mycroft joined them.

“All nice and clean?” He asked, and John wrapped his arms around him as Greg pulled back the covered on the bed.

“A-huh.” John nodded, and Mycroft kissed the top of his head.

“Mm, much better.” Mycroft agreed. “Right, in you get.” John climbed up into bed and Greg pulled the duvet up under his chin. Mycroft turned off the lights and Greg crouched down to kiss him on the nose. 

“Ready for some lovely dreams, monkey?” Greg asked as Mycroft placed a sippy-cup of water on the bedside table.

“Mmhm.” John nodded.

“Good boy. There’s water here if you need it, and you know where me and Pa will be if you need us.”

“Sleep well, darling, night night.” Mycroft called from the doorway as he and Greg retreated, pulling the door half closed as they left. John was typically fairly good as settling himself down to sleep when he didn’t have the added Sherlock energy in the room. So Greg and Mycroft relocated to the kitchen for another well-earned drink.

“I had to spank him just know, you know?”

“What did he do?” Mycroft asked from inside the fridge.

“He was playing with the bloody bath taps.” Greg grumbled as he sat down on a stool and gladly accepted the cold beer being offered to him.

“Ah.” Mycroft sighed and rubbed his brow, “Well I hope you gave him a bloody good reason not to do it again.” He raised an eyebrow at Greg who suddenly felt he was the one in trouble.

“Couple of smacks.” Greg mumbled, looking down and picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“Gregory!” 

“What?! He’s been so adorable and we haven’t seen them all week and-“

“And, I’ll smack you in a minute, remind you what a proper hiding feels like!”

Greg blushed as Mycroft walked over to him. “Sorry love, you know I don’t usually chicken out with punishments, it’s just-“

“It’s a very long week when we don’t get to see them. I know.”

Right on cue they heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, some shuffled footsteps and a slouching Sherlock Holmes arrived in the doorway.

“There ‘e is!” Greg beaming at Sherlock, Sherlock sighed, pulling at the sleeves of his coat.

“Oh darling, has it been a long day?” Mycroft asked.

“Mm.” Sherlock mumbled.

“Come here.” Mycroft held his arms open and Sherlock gladly shuffled over, resting his head on Mycroft’s shoulder, letting him hold him. “Did you finish all of your work?”

“Mm.” Sherlock answered into Mycroft’s shirt.

“Good boy.” He ran a hand up and down Sherlock’s back. Sherlock sighed and pulled away, taking off his coat and hanging it over the back of one of the stools he leant back against the counter next to Mycroft and let him pull him close, wrapping an arm around his waist, Sherlock’s head rested back where it belonged, on Mycroft’s shoulder.

“Did you drop everything by the Yard?” Greg asked, his head resting on his hand, beer held in his free one. 

“Yes.”

“Who did you leave it with?”

“Donovan.” Sherlock answered, sounding as though the word itself was poison.

“Mm.” Mycroft kissed the top of Sherlock’s head, “And were you polite?”

Sherlock sighed loudly.

“Sherlock?” Mycroft asked again, sounding a little sterner.

“Yes, yes, I was very…civil.”

“Good lad.” Greg nodded, Sherlock blushed but accepted the praise,

“Thank you.” He mumbled.

“Are you hungry, dear?” 

“No.”

“Lock.”

“What?! It’s not like the two of you won’t be force feeding me the second we get to the cottage.” Sherlock sighed, exasperated.

“What the tone, my boy.” Greg raised an eyebrow.

“Not a boy.” Sherlock grumbled.

“Oh no, no you’re all grown up, of course.” Mycroft sighed, “Now stop being cheeky and give your Da a hug.”

“Come ‘ere.” Greg held out his arms and felt genuinely joyous when Sherlock shuffled over to him. This ‘in-between’ Lock hadn’t been too keen on showing affection to Greg in the beginning. Sherlock let Greg wrap an arm around his waist as Mycroft had and leant into him. “Your little brother’s only just gone to bed, why don’t you pop in and give him a kiss?”

“Really?” Sherlock instantly perked up.

“Yeah, and if he asked, I called you to say he was very good on the way home, but he was very naughty playing with the bath taps.” Greg added.

“Ha! Passing off the discipline to a Holmes after all.” Mycroft teased, and Greg glared,

“Watch it, you.”

“Yes dear.” Mycroft blushed.

“Can I go up, Pa, see if he’s still awake?” Sherlock asked sincerely.

“Of course, Lock, go on,” Mycroft nodded his head in the direction of the door and Sherlock untangled himself from Greg to make his way up to John, “But then it’s pyjamas and bedtime for you too young man!” Mycroft called after him and Sherlock rolled his eyes, “I heard that!” … Damn it.

Sherlock peeked through the gap in the door at John, he seemed so small and peaceful. As quietly as possible he pushed the door open and tip-toed over to the bed. He crouched down and watched his little brother for a minute before he saw his eyelids fluttering.

“John-John?” He whispered. John blinked his eyes open, breaking out into a wide grin when he saw Sherlock. “Hello there, baby brother.” Sherlock leant in and kissed John on his forehead. He felt John wriggling and shifting in his bed, “Hey, hey, what are you doing?”

“Cuddle?” John asked quietly.

“Sorry?”

John patted the spot next to him that he had wriggled to create, “Cuddle?” He asked again.

“Oh!” Sherlock smiled, understanding, “Well, I suppose so, just for a minute though or I’ll get in trouble.” Sherlock winked at John as he toed his shoes off and settled on the bed, lying next to John and wrapping his arms around him. John instantly curled up against his big brother and rested his head on his chest. Sherlock stroked his back with one hand and ran his fingers through his hair with the other. “I hear you’ve been a very good boy.”

“Mm, is hard.” John nodded.

“Oh, I know it is, sometimes it’s very hard to be a good boy. But you tried your best, didn’t you?”

“Mmhm.” John nodded again.

“But you know, it’s very, very naughty to play with the taps.” Sherlock moved his hand down to rest on John’s bum.

“Mm.” John groaned.

“You’re not to do that again, do you hear me?” Sherlock asked, tapping him meaningfully a couple of times.

“Yessir.” John mumbled, and Sherlock felt himself grinning, despite himself. He was as surprised as anyone to find that he really quite enjoyed being a respected big brother.

“Good boy, now, shall I tell you a story?”

“Pease?” John asked as politely as he knew how.

“Of course.” And Sherlock started to talk quietly all about a little boy that couldn’t sit still, and soon enough John was breathing deeply against him. He closed his eyes, just for a minute or two.


	3. Chapter Three

Greg was having a wonderful dream, that one where he scored the winning match in the World Cup Final. Only he hadn’t quite reached his favourite part, (the bit where he was subbed on in the 60th minute to roars from the crowd) when he was woken up by the sound of shouts and thumping noises from the other room.

“Ohhh.” Greg groaned.

“Football hero, dear?” Mycroft asked from the foot of the bed where he was straightening his tie and looking down at his still duvet engrossed husband.

“Yeah, didn’t even get to the best bit.”

“Oh, I am sorry.”

“Why aren’t you stopping all of that noisy crap if you’re up?”

“Charming.” Mycroft reached down and pinched his husbands exposed toe, eliciting a small yelp. Greg groaned again at the shame of having yelped and pulled his feet up to safety, pouting at Mycroft’s smirk. “I was hoping I would have been dressed before they really wound themselves up.”

“You shouldn’t wear so many layers.”

“I thought you liked my suits.” Mycroft pouted this time and Greg smirked.

“No, actually, I do, I love them, but couldn’t you be a normal dad and give them a telling off in your boxers?”

“Pft!”

“Fine, your monogramed bloody silk pyjamas, then?” 

“I could, and I would, were it not for the fact that I am getting dressed for work, very important world saving work may I remind you, while you lie there having your homoerotic dreams.”

“My football dreams are not the homoerotic ones, love.” Greg raised an eyebrow at his husband and he blushed.

“Well I’ll go and take care of them for a few minutes before I leave.”

“You really are wonderful.”

“I know. Now get up, Gregory.” With that Mycroft whipped the covers off the bed and swept out of the room.

“I take it back!” Greg called, and Mycroft disappeared. 

As Mycroft approached the boy’s bedroom the noises grew louder and louder. Finally, he swung open the door and stood there, hands on his hips.

“Just what do you two think you’re doing?!” Mycroft asked in his most dangerous voice.

“Nuffin.” Sherlock and John answered in unison, smiling their most angelic smiles as they struggled to hide the pillows they had just been beating each other up with behind their backs.

“Mm, well it didn’t sound like nothing.” Mycroft raised an eyebrow at the boys as he strode across the room, flinging open the curtains. The two boys turned to face him again, pillows still behind their backs and at this point fairly certain that they were being tiny geniuses. “It sounded like you two were being very naughty.” Mycroft crossed the room to his boys and leant over them, yanking the pillows out of their hands and holding them up, “Hm?” 

“It was jus a laff, Pa.” Sherlock assured him.

“I’ll give you laugh…” Mycroft grumbled as he made John’s bed in one swift motion and replaced the two pillows that had been so recently misused. “Right, bums on the bed if you please.”

Sherlock and John shuffled over and hopped up to sit on John’s bed, looking up at Mycroft.

“Do we hit each oth-“

“Buh!” Sherlock started to protest and was silenced by Mycroft’s hand.

“Do we hit each other?”

“No.” Sherlock grumbled kicking his feet against the side of the bed.

“John?”

“No.” The younger of the two squeaked as he shook his head.

“Quite right, no, we do not hit each other.”

“You hit us.” Sherlock grumbled, still kicking his feet against the bed. Mycroft’s eyebrows shot up.

“Sherlock Holmes, look at me.” Mycroft waited a moment before Sherlock reluctantly complied. “A father smacking his son’s naughty backside is not the same as ‘hitting’ and I think you know that. Do you know that? Because if not we’ll need to have a long-“

“I know that!” Sherlock quickly added, and Mycroft sighed.

“William, do not say that you understand simply to avoid a conversation.”

“I’m noh.” Sherlock whined as he shook his head, “I know is diff-rent.” Sherlock nodded this time, sincerely. He did know that it was different, honestly, but also Mycroft’s ‘long conversations’ were too long and too boring to bare.

“So, you just said that to be cheeky?” Mycroft asked.

“Mm.” Sherlock nodded again, this time breaking all eye contact with Mycroft.

“Right, well,” Mycroft leaned down and took a hold of Sherlock’s ankle. In one motion he lifted Sherlock’s leg making him fall onto his back on the bed and landed one sharp slap on the back of Sherlock’s thigh. “Don’t be cheeky.”

“Ow! Sorry.” Sherlock grumbled rubbing away the sting.

“And stop kicking the bed.” Mycroft added, giving Sherlock a stern look and finally releasing his ankle. “Now, no more hitting each other or fighting or arguing of any kind while I’m at work, or there’ll be big trouble when I get home. I’m warning you boys.” Mycroft peered down at the two of them and they both nodded. “Right, now let’s get you dressed before I have to leave.”

“Do you av to, Pa?” Sherlock asked, still lying on his back, Mycroft smiled.

“Get you dressed? Most certainly, I cannot have sons of mine running around in pyjamas during daylight hours. What would the Queen say?!” Mycroft held his hand to his chest, acting completely aghast at the idea and making the boys laugh.

“No, Pa, do you av to go to work?” Sherlock corrected him.

“I’m afraid so, but after today I’ll have a couple of days when I can work from the cottage, how does that sound?”

“So, you’ll be wiv us?” 

“That’s right.” Mycroft nodded, and Sherlock thought very hard.

“At home?”

“Yes.”

“An you’ll do bedtime stories?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“An cuddles?” John piped up, Sherlock nodded, his brother had asked a good question,

“Yeh John-John, an cuddles?”

Mycroft smiled fondly and crouched down in front of the two and Sherlock pushed himself up on his elbows to look at his Pa.

“All the cuddles you want.”

Sherlock and John exchanged a glance and nodded at each other.

“Kay.” Sherlock confirmed for the pair.

“Good boys.” Mycroft patted Sherlock’s stomach and stroked John’s hair. “Now, clothes.” Mycroft clapped his hands and stood back up.

“I wanna stay in jim jams.” John looked down at the pair of Flash pyjamas that he was wearing, he was worried the second he took them off that they would be stolen back by his big brother.

“Yeh me too!” Sherlock agreed, realising he was wearing a very cool pair of Lego pyjamas. He didn’t remember putting them on, but that didn’t matter.

“It’s not a terrible idea.” Mycroft agreed. That way the boys could sleep comfortably in the car and they would probably need a change of clothes when they arrived at the cottage anyway. He hated that his sensible parenting brain was starting to overtake his unflappable sense of decency and decorum. 

“Yay!” Sherlock celebrated the win.

“I didn’t say-“Mycroft stopped himself, this wasn’t worth the battle, “Fine, yes, you can wear pyjamas to the cottage.”

“Yay!” John joined in his big brother’s celebrations.

“Right, toys in the toy chest…” Mycroft stopped when he saw that the boy’s celebrations had quickly turned into playful but still quite forceful wrestling. “Boys.” Mycroft stood expectantly at the side of the bed as they continued to giggle and wrestle each other. “Boys.” Still no response. “You cheeky little…” Mycroft leaned over and lightly slapped two bums. The wrestling stopped, and the boys collapsed onto their side still giggling and looked up at their Pa.

“As I was saying, toys in the toy chest please and then downstairs, your Da will have to sort out your breakfast and I’ll have to make a move.”

“I don’t like when you go to work.” Sherlock pouted and pointed a very serious finger at his Pa.

“I know,” Mycroft nodded as though Sherlock had effectively chastised him. “I don’t like leaving you either, but will you try very hard to be a good boy for me today?”

“I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

“Buh no promiseses.” 

“Oh, you cheeky monkey!” Mycroft tickled Sherlock until he begged for him to stop, John collapsed into a fit of giggles watching. “I’ll stop if you go on down to your Da.” Mycroft relented, and Sherlock caught his breath. “Run along like a good boy.”

“Kay!” Sherlock jumped up to do as he was told, John crawled off the bed and stumbled over to lean against Mycroft waiting for a hug which gladly came.

“Good morning darling.” Mycroft held John close.

Mycroft ushered the two boys down the stairs and into the kitchen where much to his surprise he found his showered and dressed husband. As well as four plates of toast and a mug of his favourite coffee.

“Oh, I love you.” Mycroft near enough moaned making Greg laugh just as he was almost bowled over by two boys.

“There are my boys!” Greg wrapped an arm around each boy, tickling them. Said tickling quickly escalated into Greg one-arm wrestling each of his sons. Mycroft took this chance for a brief intermission and downed his coffee before sliding his toast onto Greg’s plate. When he was just about ready to head for the door he decided it was time to end the silliness.

“Enough, gentlemen!” Mycroft barked and the three boys all stopped in their tracks. “That’s quite enough of that for one day thank you very much. Thank your lucky stars I haven’t got time this morning to spank three bottoms, at least now I know where you two are getting it from.” Mycroft arched an eyebrow in Greg’s direction, making him blush and the boys giggle. 

“I’m off.” Mycroft walked over to the huddle of limbs that what his husband and two surrogate sons, folding his coat over his arm and picking up his umbrella as he went. “Behave yourselves.” He delivered his most stern of glares into three pairs of eyes in turn. “And I’ll see you tonight.” A quick kiss for Gregory and Mycroft was off out of the front door.

Once the door was shut Greg looked at the two mischievous boys attached to him. “That was close.”

“Yeh!” They both nodded.

“Wait, why aren’t you dressed?”

“What?!” John jumped and looked down, breathing a sigh of relief, “I’m not nay-kid.” He frowned back up at Greg.

“No, lad, I meant why are you in your pyjamas?”

“Pa said.” Sherlock nodded.

“Your Pa said you could wear pyjamas in the day?”

“Yeh.” Sherlock nodded once again.

“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like him.” 

“Yeh, yeh, yeh.” Sherlock nodded three times for emphasis.

“Well, if you say so, but if I get a time-out because of it I’m taking you two monsters with me!”

“Noooo.” John giggled hiding his face in Greg’s shirt.

“Oh yessss.” Greg mimicked his youngest. “Right, breakfast please boys or you’ll both be starvin’ Marvin later.”

“I’m not Marvin.” John crinkled up his nose, “I’m John-John.”

“Oh!” Greg pretended to jump in surprise. “So you are. Right sitting down please and thank-you.” 

The boys sat down so close to each other that were it warm enough they would have melted into one terribly behaved child and Greg sat across from them. The boys started eating their toast and Greg looked down at his own overly full plate, “Your Pa hasn’t eaten any breakfast.” He grumbled.

“Oh dear.” John responded while focusing on moving the toast from his fingers into his mouth.

“I’ll give him ‘oh dear’ when he gets home.” Greg said to himself, although the boys heard it. Sherlock giggled turning to whisper to John,

“Thah means Pa getting spanks.” John gasped, and Greg hid his smirk from them.

“Now, are you two boys going to behave in the back of the car while I’m driving?” Greg asked as he started to munch on his own food.

“Mmhm.” Sherlock nodded, John was too busy licking his fingers to respond.

“Boys.” Greg warned, “I mean it. If you’re naughty there’ll be big trouble.”

“We won’t be norty, Da.” Sherlock shook his head.

“That means no kicking the back of my seat, no arguing, no fighting. You’re both going to sit there and be good boys, understood?”

“Ahuh.” Sherlock nodded, Greg turned to John,

‘John Hamish?”

“Huh?” John startled, he had been very preoccupied with the lovely buttery taste of his fingers.

“Are you going to be a good boy on the car journey today?” John paused to think for a moment, then nodded,

“Yeh!”

“Good lads. Right, lets wash our hands,” Greg stood up to walk over to the sink, but the boys had beat him to it, “No taps, John Hamish!” he hurried to add.

“I no.” John sighed, ever put upon but silly rules.

Greg stood over the two fidgety boys, making sure their hands were washed and dried.

“Right,” Greg clapped his hands together, “You are both wearing a pull up on the drive no arguments!” Greg rushed to finish the sentence before the onslaught of protests from his eldest could begin.

“Big boy!” Was just about all Sherlock could manage.

“Yes, you are. But it’s a long drive and it’s just in case. We’re all going to have a wee and brush our teeth before we leave, it’s just in case you get caught short-“

“I’m not short! John-John’s short!” 

“Sherlock.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Not!”

“Enough!” Both boys stopped arguing but still looked thoroughly pissed off which each other. “I thought you were both going to be good boys.”

“In the car.” Sherlock’s smirk disappeared when Greg’s hand collided with his arse, “Ow.”

“Don’t answer back.”

“Sorry.” Sherlock mumbled.

“Bathroom, go have a wee both of you, I’ll be there in a moment with your pull ups.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue but Greg held up a hand, “No arguing, Lock. Besides the way you’re behaving this morning I’d be happy for the extra padding if I were you.” Greg raised an eyebrow at Sherlock who tried to hide his own smirk. “Go on.” Greg nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.

“Come on John-John!” Sherlock grabbed his brother’s arm, shaking John out of his trance, he had become completely focused on the lovely shiny knobs on the cooker.

Sherlock pulled him out of the room and Greg panicked, quickly rummaging through the draws until his found a piece of paper, writing ‘MYC, JOHN GAVE THESE “THE LOOK” MAYBE WE SHOULD BECOME A MICROWAVE ONLY FAMILY?!’ sticking it down on top of the currently (and not for long if John had his way) ‘off’ oven. Greg turned to walk out of the room, stopping in his tracks to go back to his note and add ‘A VERY HIGH UP MICROWAVE!” before throwing the plates in the sink to be worried about when they didn’t have two tiny tearaways on their hands.

Greg hurried down the hall into the bathroom to find the two boys peeing simultaneously into the toilet bowl, he found this incredibly endearing but wasn’t sure why. Maybe because they weren’t peeing on each other, or the carpet, or the walls. Maybe just because the bathroom was not currently ablaze, flooded or frankly both (they really were talented trouble makers) as he had been expecting when he’d left them alone for two minutes.

Greg waited until they were finished and jumped on the fact that they had both completely stripped off their pyjama bottoms and underwear in order to pee, getting them both into a pull up before they had a chance to complain, or notice really. Once they were back dressed in their pyjamas he let them attempt to brush their own teeth while he sorted himself out, then washed his hands in the small pond they had created in the sink and helped them actually brush their teeth.

“Right, now it’s time to get in the car. What do we do when I open the front door?” Greg looked down at the two monsters.

“Hold your hand.” Sherlock nodded, and John copied him.

“That’s right, I’ll open the car door and Sherlock you slide along to your seat. I’ll strap John in then walk around and strap you in. Understand?”

“Yeh!” Again, Sherlock answered with a nod and John copied him.

“No opening the car door, or climbing into the front to honk the car horn, or pretending you’re a racing driver. You both said you would be good boys and if you’re not, I’ll ask Pa’s driver to take us to the cottage and I’ll sit in the back seat and spank you both the whole way there. Best behaviour.” Both boys rushed to nod, horrified at the (mostly empty) threat (not entirely empty, Greg had had some pretty terrible car journeys with the boys). “There are my good boys!” Greg took a chin in each hand and kissed two foreheads. Both boys laughed and hugged their Da. “Right little barnacles, let’s go.”

Greg led them to the door by the hand and checked he had the car keys before heading out onto the street.

Surprisingly to Greg, neither boy did anything silly. He managed to get them both buckled into the car before running back into the house for Bear and Nelson. He did a quick check that John hadn’t turned anything on when he wasn’t looking and was climbing into the front seat before either boy noticed he had gone.

“I’ve got a couple of friends for the journey.” Greg smiled leaning back between the front seats to hand each boy their bear.

“Bear!” John yelled, grabbing him from Greg and squeezing him tightly. Sherlock took Nelson and sat him on his lap looking out of the window.

“Ready to roll?” Greg asked, putting on his sunglasses.

“Yep!” Sherlock smiled, leaning his head against the window to watch his worries melt away on the way to the cottage.

“Almos.” John mumbled as he rearranged Bear under the straps of his seat, so he was also safe. “Ready!” John grinned up at Greg.

“Right, lets…” Greg slowly rested his head on the steering wheel realising to his horror that he hadn’t packed anything. Not a thing. Nothing. Why hadn’t he? Would he have to get the boys out of the car? How long would they behave if he did that? What did they need? Then remembering the reason why he hadn’t remembered to pack, he sat back up laughing to himself.

“Wha Da?” Sherlock asked, looking at him in the mirror.

“Oh, nothing lad,” Greg took off the handbrake and slowly pulled out into traffic. “I just remembered I’m married to Mycroft Holmes.”

“Well of-cors!” Sherlock tried to chastise his very silly Da, how could he forget a thing like that?


End file.
